The Price for A Second Chance
by angelmariecloud
Summary: Sometimes death can't keep a family apart, but at what will it cost to reunite them? Previously title 'Where Are You Now'... MW2, not mine...dammit!
1. Chapter 1

Where Are You Now?

Soap sighed and shook his head and put a single white rose on the headstone. A few months ago, he'd been reunited with a few of his men. A week ago, one had taken his life after a terrible argument. After everything that had actually happened, it wasn't anything that killed him more than the hurtful words of a supposed friend. It seemed like yesterday that the younger man had been alive, bright and vibrant and recovering from terrible injury. He spared a glance at the others. Archer looked thoroughly stunned, Toad was trying not to sob and failing miserably. Price looked mildly upset that someone so young was gone by his own hand. The other member of the team hadn't come to the small service, too guilt-ridden to even try to face the reality of what had happened.

"_Has anyone seen Roach and Ghost?"_

"_They went that way. Apparently, there was a lot of stuff they needed to discuss."_

"_Are those two fighting again?" Price asked. Soap rolled his eyes. "They've been arguing with one another for a good two days."_

"_Is it their normal brotherly love bickering?" Archer interjected._

"_Archer, shut up."_

"_Rude," Archer said, leaving the room._

"_Ghost, would you please just listen to me for a second?"_

"_Why should I __**Sergeant**__?" Ghost hissed icily. Roach flinched back. It was the first time in months that they'd been this bad._

"_I didn't mean any harm by it." Came the quiet words. "You haven't been eating a whole lot lately and I just-"_

"_Save it you bloody idiot. I don't know why I even bothered to try to talk to you."_

"_Ghost, wait."_

_Ghost stopped in his tracks. He was angry and annoyed that Roach had gone over his head and told Soap about his self imposed anorexia. He had no right to do so. He spun to face Roach._

"_Get the hell away from me."_

"_But-"_

"_If you'd been paying better attention, we would have seen Shepard's betrayal earlier. It's your fault I almost died."_

_Roach's sharp intake of breath was what Soap heard as he came in. The Sergeant's face crumpled in hurt. "It's your fault they died. Scarecrow would still be alive had you paid better attention to the mortars." Soap knew it was a low blow. Roach had taken the news that Scarecrow had died rather badly. Roach was frozen with shock and grief. Soap was about to intervene when Roach snapped out of the stunned state he was in and retaliated._

"_You fucking asshole!" He said. He began to leave and stopped short upon seeing Soap._

"_Are you all right Roach?" Soap asked. He hadn't heard the whole conversation but he knew that he was hurting from what Ghost told him._

"_Fine, sir" Gary replied, falling back onto old habits._

"_There's no rank out here mate." Soap reminded him gently._

_Soap was amazed at the recovery both men had made. Roach had been hurt the worst of the two of them, between the shrapnel from the mortar blast that had almost killed him, the bullet from Shepard's magnum revolver and then the attempted burning alive, he'd been in rather bad shape. His recovery was slower than Ghost's had. He thanked God that Archer and Toad pulled them from the flames before it completely consumed them. Still, even though it hadn't reached his upper torso, Roach's body was badly scarred and as a result, his confidence was destroyed. It's taken a month to heal enough to where the pain was minimal. And another month of physical therapy to get his body back to everyday activities._

_Still, walking was slow for Roach. Ghost shook his head bitterly._

"_Go on," He said to Roach, ignoring the fact that Soap was there. "Cry to Soap about what's going on. Bloody useless wanker." He stormed past the two of them and Soap turned confused eyes to Roach._

"_What happened mate?" He asked._

"_It's nothing." Roach said, he tried to escape by walking faster than he normally did lately, only to cry out at the sharp pain that ripped through him. Soap's arms immediately wrapped around him and eased him into the nearest chair._

"_Take it easy mate. You still need to work up to that."_

_Roach looked upset._

"_He's right, though. I am useless."_

"_No, you aren't. Roach, your injuries were bad, very bad. It takes time to recover."_

"_It's been four months. Face it, I'm not gonna get past the ability to walk slowly. Even if Shepard hadn't betrayed us, I would have been done. If we were found today, I would have been useless to you."_

"_Now don't you dare start that." Soap snapped and Roach jumped. "Don't you dare start tearing yourself down."_

_Price poked his head in the room._

"_Ghost is on a rampage Soap. He and Archer are going at it."_

"_Damn it." Soap swore. He didn't want to leave Roach alone but he now didn't have a choice. Archer wasn't afraid to put Ghost in his place by beating him. "Stay here Roach. I'll be back in a bit." He rushed off._

If he'd known how much Ghost's words had hurt the young man, he wouldn't have left him alone. Ghost appeared in his line of sight and knelt beside the headstone. He was a wreck, clutching a picture of them, taken a few weeks before Roach's death, all of them smiling or pulling silly faces.

"I'm sorry." He whispered.

_Soap raced out of the door without so much as a second thought, intent on stopping the escalating fighting before it turned physical. He managed with Price's help to separate the two men._

"_What the bloody hell is wrong with the two of you?" He demanded. He opened his mouth to continue to give them a good tongue lashing when there was a loud crack. Eyes widening, he raced back to the room without even thinking about it, the others a few steps behind him. The door was locked._

"_Roach!" He called. He kicked the door in and rushed inside. By some strange twist of cruel fate, the young man was still alive, despite the fact that he'd tried to shoot himself in the head. Soap gathered him up. "Get help!" He demanded over his shoulder. "Hang in there mate. Stay with me."_

_Roach couldn't track anything with his eyes, his breathing was ragged. There was a hole on the side of his head. Ghost was the only other person who stayed behind. He knelt beside Soap._

"_We need to apply pressure to the wound." He said. His eyes were wide with horror. "He needs to be kept alert too."_

"_Damn it Roach, stay awake."_

_Roach lived for another two days before he was declared brain-dead. He could go on living, with the help of machines, but there was no way he was ever going to be awake. Pulling the plug was the hardest decision Soap ever had to make. He weighed the options. On the one hand, it was unfair and selfish of him to keep him on the machines, when he was a vegetable, he wasn't going to wake up. On the other hand, how could he justify letting his friend, and brother in arms die? It took him a grand total of a week to come to a decision. He didn't tell the doctors right away but rather his men._

"_I'm going to have them take Roach off of life support. If any of you want to say your goodbyes to the lad, you ought to do it now."_

"_He could still come out of it." Toad's hopeful voice said. "The doctor said there was a chance."_

"_A very small chance mate." Archer said. "And if he never comes out of it, it isn't fair of us to force him to keep on living."_

"_Listen to what you're saying!" Toad choked out. "You're talking about euthanizing our friend!"_

"_Toad, if he did come out of it, he'd suffer so much. But he isn't going to be thrown from the state he's in, is he?" Ghost asked. It was the first time in the last week he'd said much of anything. He hadn't dared go to the hospital to see Roach, afraid of what he'd find there._

_Price shook his head. Almost everyone went to say their farewells to Roach. Ghost was hesitant to go, he knew that if he did…._

"_You should go."_

"_I can't face what I caused." Ghost said. They were in the waiting room of a small dingy hospital, Ghost had been dragged along._

"_You need to do this. Otherwise, it'll eat at you as long as you live."_

_Ghost waited until the doctors were ready._

"_I'll be with him." He said. He followed the doctors to Roach's room. Seeing Roach for the first time since he'd shot himself was a shock. Roach had always been vibrant and lively, in his place was a sickly shell of a person. His head was wrapped in bandages and there were tubes connected almost everywhere. He looked in every sense of the word, dead. Now, Ghost understood the reasons behind Soap's decision. "Can I have a minute or so before you do this?" He waited until the doctor left. "Roach, I'm not good with this sort of thing. I need you to wake up, and tell me what an arse I've been."_

_He reached to grab Roach's hand, it was slack and unresponsive in his. "Please, wake up. I'm sorry mate."_

Ghost shook his head, after what happened with his family, he'd sworn he'd closed off his heart and not allow anyone to enter it. But Roach had, and he'd only pushed him away. The others filed away quietly, letting Ghost be alone. Soap knelt beside him.

"What have I done?" Ghost asked. He felt lost again for the first time in a very long time.

"Ghost, I don't know what to tell you in all honesty. He looked up to you."

"I wish I could take it back."

"But you can't. I don't know he'd tell you Ghost. But I'll tell you something, you can't go on living in the past. He wouldn't want you to."

"Do you think he'd forgive me?"

"I have no doubt of it Ghost. He always said you were the elder brother he never had. Come, we have to do a few things before the service is over, things I promised Roach I'd do."

**AN: This is exactly why I shouldn't be allowed to listen to depressing music while I'm brainstorming….**


	2. Chapter 2

Incomplete

Ghost visited Roach's grave every day. Sometimes he left flowers, even though he was sure Roach would have decked him when he was still alive for giving him flowers. Most of the time he talked to him, as though he were still around. He hoped that Roach had found the peace he'd longed for.

"I'm telling you mate, MacTavish thinks I'm completely off my rocker. He's taken to camping out in my bedroom to make sure I don't try to kill myself. He misses you the most I think. Thought of you as a little brother. Price said that nothing is forever and that we'll all be seeing you again the sentimental old coot. Still believes in heaven and God after everything that has happened."

He shook his head sadly. "What I wouldn't give to see you again lad. To be able to tell you that I never meant to hurt you and that I really do love you."

"What exactly would you give?" A voice asked Ghost from behind. Ghost turned but there was no one there.

"Who's there?" He demanded.

"Someone who can help you. You miss him don't you? You want to be able to apologize, tell him he's worth so much more than he thinks. But I can't take anything from you. It has to come from him. So tell me, what are you willing to sacrifice to get him back?"

The voice was closer now. This mysterious being was not something that existed in the natural world. "I could take his sight. Bring him back to life, but keep his sight. But I have a feeling that it would hurt him more than help him, after all, he is a bit of a klutz. I could take his hearing but that's no good since you want to apologize to him. There's always his voice or his ability to walk."

"Why do you want a piece of him?"

"Think of it as payment. I bring him back minus one of his senses. But of course, it'll be as if we never had this conversation."

Ghost saddened. He knew that Roach would hate it if he lost any of his senses. But losing his sight seemed like the least cruel of all of them. Roach was never the type to sit still for very long and he loved music. He couldn't take those things away from. And he did want to hear his voice.

"His sight."

"It's done then."

Ghost was next aware of leaning over Roach. The young man was screaming in pain.

"Hold on Roach!" It felt like Déjà vu, and Ghost felt his stomach sinking.

"It burns!" Roach cried. His goggles were destroyed and his he was rubbing frantically at his eyes.

"No Roach, stop that!" He barked and the younger man still. Roach was bleeding and heavily. Ghost was worried that shrapnel had gotten into Roach's eyes from the mortar blast that could have killed him. Scarecrow appeared next to him.

"We're going to be over run!"

"Get to the L-Zed!"

"I'm not leaving you!"

"Take the DSM and go! I can't move him and he's not staying behind!"

Scarecrow faltered when Ghost handed him the DSM. Ozone tugged at Scarecrow's arm and they fled.

"Easy now Roach, I know it hurts but we need to be quieter now."

"I'm sorry."

"No mate. Don't blame yourself."

Roach fell quiet. They heard a loud crack coming from where the landing zone was. Then another. Roach whined in terror.

"Scarecrow! Ozone!" He said frantically. What was left of the Ultra-nationalists were retreating. And Ghost could see that Shadow Company was advancing into the wooded area. He pressed a finger against Roach's lips, a signal for silence. Roach didn't say anything else but he could help the feeble whimpers of agony, he was trying and Ghost gave him points for bravery. He lay next to Roach so that they wouldn't be seen.

Roach listened carefully. Ghost was gripping him hand tightly, anchoring him to reality. The silence was broken by the cries of dying men. Roach could smell the smoke tinged with burnt flesh and he saddened.

"The others are around here somewhere!" One of the soldiers said. He could hear Ghost slowly and quietly pulling his knife free. Then he heard footsteps approaching their location. He whined in terror, he couldn't help it. Ghost had left him side after squeezing his hand tightly. "This one's alive!" He heard the soldier called. Several more sets of feet approached. Roach opened his eye for the first time since his near death experience and saw nothing. He cried out in horror.

One of the soldiers knelt beside him.

"He's badly hurt." He said. "Look at his eyes, they're bleeding."

"You know what the General said."

"He's not a threat!"

"I don't care if he is or not! Kill him!"

Roach shook his head in terror. He was completely defenseless. Where was Ghost?

"No!" He choked out.

"This is wrong!" The soldier said. He felt a hand on his shoulder. "Look at him, he's barely coherent! What harm can he possible do?"

"Shepard said all of the traitors."

"I'm not in the business of killing defenseless people."

There was a sharp crack and the only soldier who had bothered to say no slumped onto Roach who cried out in pain.

"Please, don't!" Roach said. He felt so weak.

"The rest of you keep going, I'll take care of this one."

Roach tried moving on his own, and screamed in agony. He was too weak after a moment of struggling. The soldier who stayed behind to finish him off began circling him. Roach cringed, fully expecting to get beaten but no blows came.

"Sorry mate, I didn't want to use you as bait but I didn't see another tactical advantage." Ghost whispered. "Be right back."

Roach realized that Ghost must be dragging the body away. He knew that Ghost wouldn't let anyone hurt him now and the blood loss was getting to be too much for him to handle. He drifted unaware for a while. He jolted awake to find several pairs of hands holding him still. He cried out, thinking Ghost had somehow been killed and he was being held by a man they'd once trusted and he thrashed.

"Bloody hell! He's awake! Hold him still Toad!" A sharp voice commanded. Roach knew that voice to belong to Captain MacTavish. But it had to be imagined, there was no way. Roach cried out again when gentle but strong hands held his head in place and sterile water was poured over his eyes. "Don't struggle Roach. It's going to be all right. We have to get the shrapnel out of your eyes before they cause more damage."

"It hurts!" Roach screamed. He realized his voice was hoarse. How much had he screamed lately?

He felt the hands on his head tighten a bit.

"I know. But we need to do this to help you. You need to try to relax."

"Toad?"

"Yeah."

"What happened to Ghost?"

"He's fine. He was sent to get some rest an hour ago so I took over for him in helping you. He hasn't left your side in days. Please Roach, you need to relax and try to open your eyes so that we can wash them out."

"I don't know if I can."

"Let us help you then."

"Archer?"

"Yes lad. It's me. We're going to go slow in this. One eye at a time, we'll start with the left, on three all right?"

He felt Archer place plastic glove covered fingers on both his upper and right lids of his left eye. He choked on a scream, it hurt but then he felt the cold wash and the pain began to diminish. He relaxed against the surface they had him on. "You see? Now the other one."

Once his eyes had been rinsed of the shrapnel much of the pain had gone. He was still tender around his face but at least his eyes didn't burn anymore. They placed several layers of gauze over his eyes and then wrapped them. He was starting to relax when he felt the prick of a needle.

"What's that?"

"Just a bit of a sedative so that you can get some sleep."

"I can feel that much."

"Cheeky little bastard."

Roach grinned.

"You know you love it. I'm comedic relief."

"Yeah well next time you decide to let them use you for mortar practice, warn us so we can beat you over the head for it."

"Hey no fair, that wasn't my fault." Roach murmured. The drug was working faster than anticipated. He yawned and then was asleep. MacTavish smiled fondly at him.

"Sleep well mate. I imagine that Ghost will be here soon enough to keep watch over you. But in the meantime I hope you don't mind my company. You had him terrified. He thought that you were going to die for certain. You almost did, I know the kind of damage that blast did to you. But I also know the kind of man you are. You're so much stronger than you give yourself credit for. But I know one thing, even without your sight you'll do all right."

Ghost stood at the door.

"So you don't think it's temporary."

"No Ghost. It's not. The shrapnel tore up both his eyes to the point where it was making them bleed. We had a hard time opening his eyes to get them clean of the debris and blood. It was painful for him and Toad had to hold his head in place."

"Why are there bandages around his eyes?"

"Now with his eyes clear of things that don't belong there, we need to let the scar tissue heal with minimal exposure to the elements."

"Could his sight come back?"

"It's doubtful mate."

The next few days were the hardest, they were the most taxing emotional and physically. Roach was still far too weak to do anything on his own, even going to the bathroom was a challenge. He was trying everyone's patience too.

"He's hurt." Price reminded them at some point in the day when they discussed how they were going to beat Roach when he was well again. "He's lost his sight and he's wounded. He's lashing out because he's frustrated."

Ghost shook his head. He knew what he had to do. He went into Roach's room. The man was sulking on the bed.

"I thought I kicked everyone out."

"You thought wrong mate."

"Get out!" Roach snatched the first thing his hand found and launched it at Ghost. It missed by a mile, but it was the correct direction.

"You missed me. Not bad for not being able to see though."

Roach made a noise of irritation. Ghost shook his head. MacTavish appeared in the door behind him. He was about to ask what happened but Ghost stepped forward towards Roach.

"Get out!" Roach yelled again, his voice pitched higher in agitation. MacTavish wondered what Ghost was trying to do, it wasn't like Roach could get up and enforce the demand.

"No. All week we've all been extremely patient with you. And all you've been is a brat." Ghost said. He wasn't trying to be cruel, MacTavish could tell but he was giving Roach a wake-up call, so to speak.

Roach opened his mouth but he was cut off. "Don't say a word. You've been nothing short of snide and sarcastic with everyone. And it ends now. No more of this. You had better apologize to everyone for all the hurt you've caused them! They've been trying to help you and you've been throwing it back in their faces."

Roach bit his lip. He was tense, then he seemed to crumble.

"I'm sorry." He said. Ghost sat on the bed beside him. "Please, I didn't mean to hurt anyone."

"Why have you been acting this way Roach?"

"It's so maddening! I can't do anything on my own anymore!"

"Roach, you've been bedridden for the last few weeks. You're still recovering from an almost fatal wound."

"I can't see." Roach whined. It occurred to both of the other two men that Roach was terrified. MacTavish sat down opposite Ghost.

"And that scares you."

Roach hung his head.

"Yes. I wish I was braver but I'm not."

"Roach, there's nothing wrong with being frightened. This is something life altering for you. But it doesn't mean that life is going to stop. You just need to retrain yourself on how to do things. And you need to trust us."

**AN: Sorry it took me so long to update. I kept scraping the chapter and then rewriting it. I finally found a way to make it work, I guess. It could have gone so many ways really and I want to show all of them.**


	3. Chapter 3

The Memory Is a Strange Thing

Roach had spent the better part of the day following Ghost and the others after his service. It was so surreal to realize that he was in fact dead. He hadn't left yet though and he couldn't understand why.

"Ghost, you need to stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Making that sound."

"I'm not even moving!"

Gary was leaning against the wall and tapping his foot. Being an actual ghost was really boring. He stopped.

"That's the weirdest thing." Toad said. "I know I heard tapping, like someone was tapping their foot or something."

"That's the second f-c thing that's happened today."

"FC?" Soap asked Archer.

"Yeah, fucking creepy."

Roach smiled. Only Archer.

"Do you miss them?" A voice next to him asked. "Don't worry; they can't hear us, though they can hear when you hit things."

"Who are you?"

"I can help you Gary. Don't you want a second chance?"

"What's the catch?"

"I'm not sure I know what you mean."

"There's always a catch."

Roach looked at his friends, and got sad.

"I get to experiment with you. I give you several chances to get it right. See if you can get them to like you if they can't remember what you mean to them."

"And if I fail?"

"We try a different angle."

"If I succeed?"

"You get to live out your life and I will never appear again."

"All right. Do it."

"Close your eyes Gary."

"He's heavy!"

"No one told you to drug him!"

"Who is he?"

"We found him near the south entrance. No markings on his clothing and his dog tags are missing."

"He coherent?" He heard Price ask.

"Not entirely sir." Toad said.

Roach tried to talk but all that came out was a garbled moan. "We shot him with a bit of ziprasidone."

"He's fighting it."

"He'll get tired soon enough. Tie his wrists together."

"Cuffs work better."

Roach tried to protest but his mouth wouldn't obey him.

"He's talkative."

"Quiet." He was hauled to his feet momentarily and then hefted over Ghost's shoulder. He hung limply and allowed Ghost to carry him to wherever he was being taken, not that he could do much in his current state. "Once we get him strung up, give him some carphedon."

"Why?"

"I need answers."

Roach was placed on a chair, his wrists were released from the cuffs only to be put into restraints, the ones used in hospitals, and then his legs were secured similarly. He felt the cold alcohol pad swiped across his arm then the sharp pinch of the needle. It took a minute before the other drug kicked in. Roach blinked slowly. Then looked around, he was in a small room. Soap leaned against the wall. Ghost was right beside him and Price was nowhere to be seen.

"Now," Soap began. "I'm going to ask you a few questions. If you answer them honestly, you won't be harmed. If you lie to me, Ghost here, will get to exercise his more creative talents."

Roach swallowed hard. He could remember what happened to Rojas, even if they didn't know it. "You're smart, that's a good thing. Means you're less likely to lie. Now what's your name?"

"Gary" Roach answered fearfully. He was terrified, Ghost had never hurt anyone he cared about but now Roach was worried because they didn't remember him.

"How old are you Gary?"

"I'll be twenty next week. Please, I want to go home."

"What do you do?"

"I…" Gary hesitated for a moment. He'd been working with these men, but he wasn't sure what to tell them. "I'm a hacker. I specialize in encryption breaking."

Soap shook his head. "Ghost, I don't think he's telling us the truth here." Roach's eyes widened in terror. "What do you think?"

"I think your right."

"No! Oh please don't! I'm telling you the truth!"

"Again with the lies, Ghost."

Roach shook his head. Ghost pulled a knife out. He knew that things were about to get very ugly for him now. He screwed his eyes shut. Just because he was about to be tortured, it didn't mean that he had to see what was being done to him.

"Last chance, lad."

"I've told you're the truth."

Two hours later, Archer and Toad were tending to the injuries inflicted on him. Roach flinched away from them.

"I won't hurt you, lad." Archer said. "Ghost did a number on you. You're lucky; you seem to have all your fingers still."

"Here, drink this, it'll help soothe your throat and rehydrate you." Toad instructed. He frowned. "I know we need to know who he is and everything but this," He gestured to the damage Ghost had done. "Is beyond wrong."

"Toad…" Archer warned.

"No, look at him. He's just a kid!"

"That doesn't change the fact that he was caught sneaking around the safe house."

"How can you be so cold blooded?" Toad asked. He turned to the injured man; he's my little brother's age. Every time I look at him, I see my baby brother."

Roach hadn't known that about Toad.

"Please…" He said, he wasn't sure what he was asking for, not after what he'd been put through. He was beginning to feel tired, probably due to the beating and torture he'd undergone. "Please, I wanna go home." He wasn't sure if he could tell Archer and Toad that he did know them. But he was going to risk them thinking he was nuts.

"I'm sorry lad." Archer said.

"I know you guys. This isn't like either of you." Roach said. "Archer, I want to help you get back to your little girl, her name's Sarah, right?"

Archer froze in shock. The only ones who knew his daughter's name were the former member of the One Four One. "I know that it was Shepard who betrayed all of you and then branded you as traitors. And that he tried to kill you. I want to help you!" Toad gasped. No-one knew what happened that day in the mountains when they were played for fools. He and Archer exchanged a look, both of them freaked out. Archer stood and ran to get Soap.

"How do you know all of this?"

"I was there, at least I think I was. It's hard to think."

Soap arrived a minute later with Archer.

"He said he knows us." Archer was explaining. "He knows my daughter's name!"

"Damn it. Why didn't he tell us this before?" Soap asked. He realized that Roach had told them all of this earlier, but they marked it off as lies. "Damn it. I think he's been telling us the truth all this time." Soap knelt next to Toad. "Why are you here?"

Roach bit his lip, his eyes reflecting misery.

"I can't tell you. Please don't make me tell you."

"What happened to you lad?"

"Please don't."

"Archer, finish dressing his wounds and let him rest. He's too strung out to answer at the moment."

Soap left the room to talk to Ghost and Price.

"So he's still saying he knows us?" Price asked. "I think he may be nutters."

"He's frightened and hurting." Ghost said. "I'm not torturing anyone who's already broken. Something terrible happened to that boy. I won't touch him again."

"I just need to know what you think."

Ghost turned towards Soap.

"I think we should have never tortured him to begin with. You didn't see the terror in that lad's eyes. Now we can't tell if he's telling us the truth or just telling us what we want to hear just to avoid being hurt again. I'd take back what I did to him if I could."

Archer appeared in the door.

"His injuries are cleaned and dressed. Toad is trying to get him to eat something but he's having a difficult time of it." Soap felt even guiltier afterward. Ghost shook his head.

"I'll see what I can do to help." He said. He made his way to the room that was acting as a holding cell.

"You've got to eat." Toad said. Roach was half asleep.

"Toad, let him rest. He's been through so much lately."

Toad grabbed the tray and stood up. He left the room. "I'm sorry lad." Ghost said. Roach didn't respond to the words, he was almost completely asleep. "Rest now, and tomorrow will be better." Roach didn't let anyone sleep that night, waking screaming in the early morning hours.

"What the hell?" Price asked, coming out into the hallway at the sounds of screams that echoed throughout the safe house.

"The kid…" Toad said, and he was opening the door before he could be stopped. Roach was still asleep but it seemed as though he were having a terrible nightmare. Toad shook his gently but it didn't work.

Finally, Archer did what he'd done for his daughter when the night terrors had gotten bad, he held Roach in his arms and shushed him in a soothing tone. Roach struggled at first but then settled against him. Soap and Ghost appeared a moment later.

"What happened?"

"Night terror." Archer said simply. Roach was quite now, though he occasionally mumbled incoherently. "Shh… it's all right. No-one is going to hurt you now. You're safe."

Roach was surprised when he woke up the next morning to find arms wrapped around him. It was Archer. "Morning lad."

"What?" Roach asked, he looked confused.

"You had a very bad nightmare last night Gary."

"Did I wake you?"

"You woke everyone lad."

Roach looked startled.

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. Care to tell me what happened to you to make you so fearful?"

"I don't know if I should."

"What's the worst that could happen?"

Roach bit his lip, Archer had already released him and was giving him space. The being responsible for his second chance at life hadn't exactly said he couldn't tell them where he was from really.

"I don't know what to tell you. I know all of you. I worked alongside all of you, even though you might not remember it."

"How do you know that Shepard betrayed us?" Soap asked from the door.

"I was there with Ghost at Makarov's safe house. You and Price took a team to the Bone yard so that we couldn't miss the bastard. He wasn't at the safe house and even now, I'm not sure if the information was a set up or not. I hacked Makarov's computer and we got a list of contacts of his. If we could track him down we could prove that it wasn't Allen who killed all those people that it was Makarov who lead that massacre at the airport. When we got the info onto the DSM we left, like getting the info was easy, we lost Ozone as a result. Scarecrow, Ghost and I were the only ones who made it out of the house. We were on our way to the LZ when a mortar almost killed me."

Soap looked horrified at the thought. "I lost consciousness, and when I woke up, I was being dragged away by Ghost, he was shouting at me to hold on, and that we were almost there. He got to my feet and we went the rest of the way. Shepard's chopper was just landing. He… he shot us. Me first and then Ghost. His shadow company tossed the two of us into a pit and doused us with gasoline. You can guess what happened next."

"How did you survive with nary a scar?"

"I was scarred and badly too. So was Ghost but, I killed myself and I don't know, I was given a second chance to get things right or something, this body isn't."

"So what you're trying to say is you're dead?"

Ghost's voice sounded suspicious.

"I was dead."Roach said. "I was given a second chance."

"At what?"

"To try."

"To try what?"

"To prove to the people that I care about that I won't fail them."

"Why did you kill yourself?"

Roach looked sad.

"I was hurting so bad. I was in such physical and mental pain I couldn't fight any more. No one knew how much it hurt but you." Roach looked up at Soap. "You were the only one who knew how much I was suffering."

"So you took your own life rather than try to fight. You let Shepard take your courage."

"It wasn't like that Ghost. It wasn't like that at all. I was at my lowest and someone used that fact to kick me while I was down, going as far as to say that I was useless and that it was my fault that Scarecrow had died."

Ghost looked perturbed. Roach was miserable.

"That person is a bloody idiot if they used things that you couldn't control against you." He said. "Who was it that told you those things?" Roach didn't answer, he couldn't tell Ghost what it was that he'd said to him.

**AN: I'm so sorry I didn't update sooner. I'm a bad, bad fic writer... The chapters are gonna switch off between the different ways it could have gone, in total there were three different ways.**


	4. Chapter 4

Second Chances

"What would you do to get another chance?" It was a man in dark clothing and Roach wasn't even sure this person was human. He narrowed his eyes.

"Who the fuck are you?" The man in black simply laughed and took a step towards Roach. Something in Roach warned him to keep away from the man, and he took a step backwards.

"Aw, I'm insulted. I won't hurt you Gary."

Roach wasn't so sure about that. He regarded the other man with cautious eyes. For a minute he didn't respond to the man, simply trying to size him up. Roach wasn't good at judging a person's character, Ghost was good at it. But he was dead now and Ghost wasn't. The man took another step forward and Roach held his ground. He did want another chance but who was this man to offer what he couldn't give?

"What do you want?" Roach asked after a minute. He shifted nervously but didn't flinch when the other suddenly grabbed his chin; it was a tight and uncomfortable grip.

"I want to know what you would give for another chance."

Roach felt his stomach drop, his mind screaming at him to ignore the man and get the hell out of there. He was confused as well, why was this man so curious?

"I don't understand." Roach said.

"What would you give to have another chance, would you say, anything?"

"If you think I'm going to offer my soul to you for a second chance, you've got another thing coming. I'd rather stay stuck as a ghost."

The man laughed, it was warm and rich sound.

"No, silly child, I don't want your soul." The man was amused. "What I want is your past."

"What do you mean?"

"I want the day you got picked for the task force."

"Why?"

"To see if they could still care for someone they never met. And to see if you could care for them as much as you do if you had never known them. You get all new memories, all you have to do is say yes."

Roach froze in horror. The man seemed sincere enough about it. His mind was racing. He swallowed hard.

"Why do you want to do this?"

"I can't tell you Gary. So, what's your decision?"

Roach looked at the picture in the frame that had been put at his headstone and then at Ghost, the man had lost so many people he cared about to death, he didn't deserve to suffer. Roach knew what he had to do, if not for himself, then for a man who needed a break for once in his life. He hesitated then nodded.

"All right."

"Close your eyes boy."

He was being shaken awake.

"Come on, get up lazy!"

"Five more minutes mom." Gary mumbled sleepily, turning over and clutching his pillow harder.

"I'm not your momma!"

Gary opened his eyes.

"What time is it?"

"You almost slept through the 'Reveille'! Sheperd will have our hides if we're late again."

"Aw, man! Couldn't he have played 'Retreat' instead? I was dreaming about Vanessa."

"She's too old for you! And she's not a cougar."

Max dragged him out of beg in the head lock and gave him a noggie, Gary squirmed the entire time. It took him only five minutes to get ready to meet with Lt. General Sheperd. Gary didn't like the man as a person. In Gary's opinion, Sheperd was a heartless and cold bastard but Max seemed to like him. Sheperd often worked with the group of 'super' warriors. Task Force 141. Gary knew he wasn't good enough to join, hell, he was barely squeaking by as it was.

"You need to get into better shape, Gary."

Gary rolled his eyes as they made their way to see the General.

"I'm a hacker Max, it's not like I need to be in the greatest physical shape to break into people's computers."

"See, that's where you're wrong."

They rounded the corner and went into the building. Sheperd put Gary to work right away to decode a DSM. Gary didn't ask who died to get the information but he was beginning to suspect that Sheperd wasn't being completely honest. His suspicions were confirmed an hour later, when alarms went off.

"You done cracking that code yet Sanderson?" Sheperd asked.

"No sir. It's a tough encryption."

"Finish it on the chopper, we're leaving."

Gary grabbed the laptop and DSM and stuffed them both into his bag. He followed Sheperd to the helicopter. That's when he heard the commotion; two men had infiltrated the base and were killing everyone in sight. Gary's eyes widened and he wondered if it was Makarov's men. But then he heard a name he'd seen on the wanted poster and froze. MacTavish. Sheperd pulled him inside and they took off. Seconds later, the entire base exploded.

Gary stared, frozen in horror.

"Oh god." He whispered. Everyone on base had to have been killed. His friends and colleagues. "What have you done?" He was so stunned over what had just happened. His voice was hoarse and pitched higher than normal with grief.

"They died so that we could live. Finish cracking that code soldier."

Gary was still frozen with horror. "Don't do anything stupid Sergeant." Gary was reeling but for the first time, he knew what he had to do.

"No." He said quietly. "I'm not gonna finish decrypting this code until you tell me why a man that used to work for you is coming after you."

The shot to his leg was so sudden and unexpected that Gary wailed.

"I don't have to answer to the likes of you." Gary gripped his leg and moaned in agony.

"I deserve to know." He gritted out. "You killed my friends, you're putting my life in danger and now, you've shot me. Face it; you need me to break the code that you can't. Why did the people who got this encrypt it?"

Before Sheperd could answer, the chopper was shot down, Gary held on for dear life to his bag and the seat. The impact hurt, worse than the shot to his leg had been. He was tossed from the cabin and landed next to a rusted car. The ground was dry, cracked and unforgiving, it was so different than he'd always pictured a desert to be with numerous and huge sand dunes stretching on for miles. He felt the hip bone of his injured leg shatter and he screamed and passed out. He woke up to Sheperd trying to remove the bag from around his body. He batted at Sheperd but the man simply applied pressure to one of his numerous injuries and Gary stopped fighting him. He realized then just how badly he'd been hurt, one if not both of his legs were broken, he'd fractured his collarbone, he had numerous cuts and scrapes all over, he had at least one broken rib, which explained his difficulty in breathing. There was a distant shriek and then another a short while later. Sheperd had left him to get something from the chopper and he came running back towards the car. MacTavish was right behind him, wielding only a knife and looking like he'd almost drowned, his blue eyes glittering dangerously.

Gary watched as the tall man swung at Sheperd only to be countered and slammed into the car, his head taking the brunt of the assault. Gary realized he was about to witness a murder and before he could fully process what he was doing, he was dragging himself to him feet and launching himself at the General, he couldn't stopped the knife from entering MacTavish but he hoped to distract Sheperd. Sheperd simply backhanded Gary and knocked him away. Gary wasn't sure what had spurred him to defend someone he'd never met. Sheperd shot Gary five times and then turned towards MacTavish, the man was regaining consciousness. Gary laid gasping unable to help as they both listened to Sheperd talk.

"Five years ago, I lost 30,000 men in the blink of an eye and the world just fuckin watched." He emptied the magnum of the bullet casings. Gary shut his eyes, unable to watch his failure, MacTavish had looked so dazed. "Tomorrow there will be no shortage of volunteers, no shortage of patriots."

Gary wanted to call Sheperd a coward, a liar and a murderer because he was all these things, even if Gary realized it too late. Too late for his friends on the base that had been destroyed, too late for the two pilot and co-pilot of the chopper, too late for him and the man that had tried to kill Sheperd. Gary opened his eyes at the sound of the magnum being shut. It was pointed at MacTavish's head, guaranteeing that he'd die quickly. "I know you understand." Sheperd said to MacTavish. As he pulled the trigger, an old man in a sun hat slammed into him, and the bullet hit the ground above MacTavish's head. From the sounds, there was a fight, but Gary couldn't see due to the sandstorm that had kicked in just after the chopper crashed.

Gary hoped that the old man was winning. Price, he remembered belatedly, the old man was called Price. He's hate for the two men to be killed and then Sheperd come back to finish him off, if he even bothered to. Sheperd's face was the last thing he wanted to see before he died. The fight lasted a long time, and then he heard a voice that wasn't Sheperd's calling for someone.

"Soap!" The sound of him moving and then "Soap!" The voice was heavily accented, British if he guessed right. There was the sound of cloth tearing and a little bird chopper approaching. "That should hold for now." The little bird touched down with a dull thud, its propellers kicking up some dust. Gary watched as the old man helped MacTavish to the chopper. "I thought I told you this was a one way trip."

"Da it still is!" The pilot replied his voice had a very thick Russian accent. "They'll be looking for us you know."

MacTavish's legs gave out from under him. The pilot scrambled forward to help.

"We need to get Soap out of here."

"Da, I know a place." They disappeared from his line of sight. If they saw him, they were ignoring him. Price and Nikolai loaded Soap into the chopper, he was still awake and his lips were moving. It was only after leaning closer that Price understood what Soap was trying to tell him. He was saying about the soldier who was wounded on the ground near the rusted heap of a car.

"I'll take care of it." Price said, he had every intention to kill the only witness of their escape. Soap seemed to recognize that and he shook his head. "You want me to help him?" Price was stunned, Soap was a good man and not the type to just protect just anyone. With a sigh, Price made his way back to the car, Gary was on his back and he was a mess. It was impossible to tell what he looked like under all that blood. He cracked open his eyes at the sound of footsteps and whined when Price got close.

It took Price a moment to realize that Gary was afraid of him.

"Be quiet." He said. "I won't hurt you. Can you stand?" Price asked. Gary shook his head, he didn't think he could. Price knelt beside him, he was impatient as he ripped more strips to slow the bleeding. Gary began to drift off but Price jolted him back into awareness with a sharp slap to the face. "Don't you dare…" Price growled.

Moments later, Price was hefting Gary over his soldier and Gary cried out as his injuries were jarred. He lashed out, catching the elder on the small of his back. "Stop struggling." Price snapped. Gary sobbed.

"Please put me down, it hurts!" Gary begged breathlessly. The trip was short and painful for Gary, and then he was being put into the little bird, next to Soap. He was shaking with the force of his sobs, not having the strength to do much else. Price was amazed that Gary was still clinging to consciousness and realized that maybe he was afraid to fall asleep, then again, he'd forbidden Gary to do so. Gary went very quiet suddenly, not even crying anymore. They were already in the air, and Price peered at the young man's face.

Price wanted to curse, Gary was unconscious. He knew that there was no way he and Nikolai would be able to carry both of them. He just hoped that wherever they were going there would be help. Not that it mattered much. Price knew that if he had to make the choice between Gary's life and Soap's, he'd let Gary die. It took nearly four hours to reach their destination, a small camp out in the middle of nowhere. The people at the camp took Gary and Soap right away to treat their injuries. They were both brought into two separate medical tents. The doctors working on Soap came out the soonest. Soap would be all right, with rest. Price asked to see him and was let into the tent.

Soap was waking when Price entered. Price smiled at him, relieved.

"This is a first." Soap said, his voice was quiet. "How's the lad?"

"They're still working on him. He was worse off than I originally thought."

"He tried to help me."

"That explains all the gunshot wounds. You should rest."

"Will you tell me if he makes it when I wake up again?" Soap asked, he was getting sleepy again. Price smiled fondly.

"Yeah, I'll check up on him." Price said. Soap smiled and drifted back to sleep, too tired to do much else. Price stayed with him for a few hours before Nikolai poked his head in and offered to sit with Soap while he got some food, and rested a bit. Price was about to decline when he remembered that he was supposed to be checking in on Gary.

He left the tent and peered into the tent Gary was in, he was almost the same color as the sheet that covered him to his bandage wrapped torso.

"He might not survive the night." The doctor said from behind him. Price jumped and swung around, although if asked later, he'd deny it.

"What's wrong with him?" Price asked. The doctor shook his head.

"He lost too much blood. And we don't have enough to give him a transfusion. We managed to stop the bleeding and hopefully we won't get any surprises within the next twenty-four hours."

Price was beginning to understand what the doctor was implying. The slightest change in anything could prove to be deadly for Gary. Gary was still out, and would probably remain so for a while. The doctor was giving Price the full list of injuries. The gunshot wound to his leg was older than the rest of the injuries and Price realized that Soap was right, Gary had been trying to help them. He shook his head. He went into the tent.

"You'd better not die on me. Soap will want to thank you for your help."

It was three days before Soap was well enough to sit up. Gary had yet to regain any color.

"How's the lad?"

"Gary."

"What?"

"His name." Price said. "It's Gary. He's not doing too well. Still too pale and still."

Soap opened his mouth to talk but was halted by commotion outside.

"You can't go in there!" The doctor was saying.

"I can do as I bloody well please. Get out of my way."

"He found us." Price said off handedly. A moment later the tent was opened to reveal an annoyed Ghost. Ghost paused in the entryway, unsure if was able to enter the tent and stunned to see both men alive, and on the mend.

"Ghost, come in." Soap said.

"Bloody hell, you're alive! And that bastard?"

"Dead."

"Good."

"Price, check in on Gary, please."

Price got up from the small seat he'd stolen from near one of the campfires the night before, mumbling about being too old to babysit anyone. Once he was out of earshot Ghost allowed himself to chuckle. Though he was curious about the newcomer and he sat in the seat Price had previously occupied. Soap gave him a grim smile.

"I heard you got stabbed."

"I'll live."

"I see that. Who's Gary?"

Soap took a breath to give him time to organize his thoughts. He knew that neither he nor Price were able to understand why they felt compelled to help Gary, especially since he'd worked for Sheperd. He wasn't sure why Gary decided he was going to help him when Sheperd wanted to kill him, even though Gary wasn't able to keep him from getting hurt. In reality, he didn't know who Gary was as a person, didn't know if he was capable of loyalty. Not that it mattered very much anymore. Once Sheperd's death was discovered and Gary's DNA was at the scene along with Soap's, Gary had been branded a murderer and there was an international manhunt for him. If the investigators had been smart, they would have realized that Gary's prints weren't even on the knife and that he was nowhere near Sheperd when he died.

Soap shook his head.

"Gary is the young man in another tent nearby."

"So, why is he so important?"

"When I went to kill Sheperd, I was taken by surprise and was stabbed by that bastard. I think he may have done more to me but Gary intervened. He received five shots to the chest for all his trouble."

"You just want to make sure the lad makes it. He saved your life. Why'd he do it?"

"I don't know."

Ghost agreed to sit with Gary when Price was with Soap, he wanted to see why Gary had betrayed Sheperd and helped them. Price entered the tent after Ghost agreed and gave Ghost a vicious glare. Chuckling Ghost stood up and left then tent. He found out that Gary's medical tent was opposite Soap's. He sat with Gary as he'd agreed, wondering how he'd managed to get himself roped into watching a total stranger.

**AN: Wow, all this time I've been spelling that bastard's name wrong. As per requested I attempted to make this chapter more detailed. But still a lot of dialogue, sorry. I had more but it's gonna have to be broken to another chapter. It also occurred to me that there are about fifty other things the mysterious man in black could have taken as payment. What do you think, should I try them all?**


	5. Chapter 5

Familiar

When Soap went to visit Roach's grave, there was an odd man in black, standing by the headstone. Soap frowned at the man.

"I take it that my presence makes you nervous John." The man said.

"Why are you here? Did you know Gary?"

"I can't say I did, at least not personally."

"Who are you?"

"Just someone who knows a lot more than you think."

The man went on to tell Soap exactly what happened to Roach the day he shot himself and the reason he lived through it, only to die in the hospital. He then offered to restore Roach's life, for a price.

"What happens if I say no?"

"Gary's soul is forfeit. You see, the only way he can gain his freedom is complete the task he's given, but if you want to help him, you have to be willing to make a deal."

Soap wavered in indecision. He couldn't just say yes to the man, for all he knew, the man tricked Gary into attempting suicide. But how could he condemn his friend.

"What do you want?" The man smiled, it was not a pleasant smile.

Soap sighed and placed a kiss to the old, worn out photo.

"You're wife?" Ghost asked.

"No, it's not a picture of my dead wife, I don't kiss it anymore." He said. He turned the photo to face Ghost. On it was a young boy, probably six. He was smiling. He had Soap's eyes and his nose. But that was where his father's features stopped. The rest was entirely the boy's mother.

"Your son," Ghost said. Soap had never mentioned he was a father.

"His name was Gary. He was such a good boy."

Ghost could tell this was painful for his friend. Soap sounded like he would give anything to have his son again. They were in another safe house.

"What happened to him?"

"He was six when we lost him. He missed his bus and he wanted to show us how big he was. He walked home, only he never got home. He was a block away when someone snatched him. I didn't know he gone until it was late at night that night." Soap's voice broke, and Ghost put a hand on his arm. He suffered so much when his brother and family were murdered but none of the children had been _his_. He missed his nephews but he couldn't imagine what it must have been like to lose your son. Soap took a breath. "We searched for months before we caught the bastard who did it. But there was no sign of Gary.

His mother couldn't handle it anymore. She gave up and it killed her to do so, she killed herself a month after. I didn't want to give up. I wanted to find my son, and never let him out of my sight ever again. After a year, everyone told me that he was dead, that there was no way that he could still be alive, not when the man who'd taken him had taken and killed at least six other children. He gives the locations of a body every so often. None of them have been my Gary so far."

Ghost knew he shouldn't ask, but he wanted to know if there was something he could do to help.

"Do you think he's still alive?"

"I want to believe that he was lucky, that he managed to get out and away from that monster. I want to believe that he's out there somewhere, maybe with good people who saw him all alone and took him in, that he's safe. But I don't want to hope too hard in case they do find him buried in some forest."

"I'm sorry mate." Ghost said sincerely.

"He'd be turning sixteen next week if he were still alive today. Such a bright child."

Gary was turning out to be a good prodigy, and Makarov seemed to like the boy. He was bright and cunning. The boy had yet to take a life, but that would come soon enough. At the moment, he was learning the basics of unarmed combat. He was doing well for someone his age and size. When Makarov first found the boy, he was thin from starvation, weak and hurt. Makarov later learned that Gary had been kidnapped from his parents and that the man who'd taken him had left him in the middle of nowhere to die. Makarov suspected that the kidnapper thought Gary was actually dead when he dumped the boy in the snow covered woods, covered in a thin blanket and barely living.

Gary remembered little of his parents, and Makarov knew he was being given a golden opportunity. After all, he could train this boy to be the perfect assassin. So he was trained how to fight, how to shoot, how to kill. Gary was kept lean and light, and they all preferred it that way, he was a better equipped than he looked. He was going to be assigned to kill two men one named Price, who had killed Makarov's mentor and the other named MacTavish. He was ready for it.

He packed his weapons and clothing. He was going to send these men to their graves if it was the last thing he did. His whole life had built up to this moment, and they would pay for their misdeeds. He knew he had to make contact with them and he knew exactly how to do it. When he arrived in the town, he was alone and wore worn out and dirty clothes, he wanted to give the appearance of having been traveling far. The one named MacTavish had a son who'd died ten years earlier and Gary looked very much like the poor soul.

Soap didn't like it when it was time to go to the market for more food. He liked it even less when Ghost came along.

"We shouldn't be too long." They were leaving the store when Gary slammed into them and nearly fell over.

"I'm sorry!" Gary said quickly. Soap steadied him.

"Its fine, lad."

Gary froze, he knew he was supposed to kill Soap but he knew that voice from somewhere. It was so familiar to him. Slowly he looked up and he met eyes that were the same shade of blue as his. It was a punch to the gut and Gary exhaled sharply.

"I know you." Gary said, his voice was quiet and his eyes wide. Soap seemed frozen as well and Ghost watched the scene unfold.

"Gary?" Soap asked. Gary bit his lip, he was unsure now.

"Dad?" Gary asked. His mouth hung open in shock, and then his eyes rolled back as the shock was too much and he crumpled to the ground, thankfully their food was in a cart and Ghost had it, so it freed Soap's arms to catch his son.

Ghost left the cart for a moment.

"What the hell?"

"Ghost, he's alive. This is my son."

"How do you know it's him?"

"I'll explain in the car. Let's get out of here."

Ghost packed the car while Soap put Gary into the back. It was only when they were driving that Soap explained that he recognized the young man as his son only because of the faint scar, just above his left eyebrow. He explained about the accident that occurred when Gary was four involving a mirror and a dresser. The injury required stitches, a grand total of thirteen and a week of Soap sleeping on the couch. Gary seemed well considering how long he'd been lost.

"I don't like this." Ghost said he was looking at Gary, who was still unconscious in the back seat through the rearview mirror. He was regarding him with suspicion due to the fact the young man had appeared out of nowhere and found them without searching first.

Soap frowned.

"What do you mean? This is my son. I'm not going to lose him again, Simon. I can't, I won't survive losing him again." His voice was serious. Ghost felt bad for his friend, but he didn't trust Gary. Gary hadn't been raised by his father, and Ghost wasn't sure who raised the young man.

Price was immediately suspicious when they arrived with Gary. The car ride back to the safe house hadn't taken a long time, and Gary was just waking up when they got there. Gary mentally cursed himself for being weak. Just because the man was so familiar didn't mean he had to pass out. He sat up slowly and Soap backed away.

"How do you feel?"

"Aside from idiotic?" Gary asked. "I think I'll be all right."

"Shock will do that to you. My god you've grown."

Gary bit his lip, the man seemed genuinely happy to see him, how could he kill him and not be shaken by it? Gary had been taken from his family, much like this man's son.

"I'm almost sixteen."

"I know. In three days." Gary felt his heart clench. He even shared the same birthday as the other. He looked down.

"I don't know what to do." Gary said. He didn't and he was so confused, could it be that he really was John MacTavish's lost son.

"What are you talking about Gary?"

"I…I feel so lost."

He sounded pathetic even to his own ears and Soap went to soothe him.

"Oh son. I know this is not easy. There's so much we need to talk about." Soap was at a loss as to why Gary was such an emotional wreck but something told him that there was something off about it.

"Not now… I don't want to have to remember." It was a truthful plea. Gary remembered with perfect clarity the horrors he'd lived through because of the man who'd taken him. He'd never be able to forget everything he saw and went through. It had taken him nearly ten years to forget and he didn't want to remember any of it. Soap's eyes were sympathetic.

"All right. We don't have to talk about that if you don't want to. I want to know how you lived but if it's painful for you, I won't force you."

Gary found himself wishing that this really was his father, but he had a job to do and he needed to prove himself. He took a breath and looked towards the others in the room.

"Who's this?" Gary asked.

"This is Simon Riley, we call him Ghost."

"What kind of nickname is that?" Gary asked.

"It's not a nickname, it's my call sign."

"Oh."

"Go easy on him Ghost, he's just a lad."

It took a week before Gary could come up with a plan to kill Price and MacTavish. He didn't want to kill the latter only because the man treated him so well. Price was still cold to him and Gary hoped that the old man wasn't suspicious of him. The morning he decided to go with his plan, he packed and left his things by the door.

"Going somewhere boy?" Price growled into his ear. Gary made a startled sound and froze. He didn't know that anyone had spotted him. He was about to put of the greatest performance of his lifetime. He slowly turned around and faced Price. His eyes were wide.

"I… I…" He said, he was proud at the way he made his voice tremble.

"Gary?" Soap asked from behind them. "Where are you going son?"

Gary faltered. His eyes snapped towards Soap then back at Price.

"I caught him putting his things by the door." Price said. Gary saw the hurt look flash across Soap's face before his eyes hardened on the young man. Gary fidgeted, he was uncomfortable with the other man's look. He needed to think fast before he was caught.

"I…." Gary said, he hung his head and sighed. "I was going to run away." He said. Soap frowned.

"Why?"

Gary bit his lip, his eyes wary and cautious.

"I figured you wouldn't want me around if you knew what happened to me. So I was going to leave so I didn't have to worry about you not wanting me."

"Gary, you're my son, I could never not want you."

Gary looked away and didn't meet the man's eyes. "Gary? Does that mean you're ready to tell me what happened?" Gary nodded. "Could you take his things upstairs, I need to talk to him but I'd rather have privacy." Soap led Gary into a small room.

"I don't think I'm your son. And it isn't fair to you that you think so. He was holding three of us at the same time, and we all looked so much alike, you'd think we were brothers. He would keep us locked up in a small closet for three days at a time. But then one day, one of the others fought him back and he snapped his neck. After that he separated us so we couldn't make any plans against him. I was the last to go. I never learned any of the others names, but I think one of them was your real son. He beat me so bad and then he left me in the woods to die."

Soap stared at the frightened young man. His eyes were wide with the horrors he'd lived through. He wasn't lying either, and it felt oddly freeing to be able to tell someone what he'd gone through.

"You're my son Gary." Soap said. "And I can prove it."

Gary didn't want to kill Soap, he really didn't. They were standing and Gary turned away from the man, it was now or never, he knew. As quietly as possible, he pulled out the knife and then without warning he sprang. Soap was surprised but he managed to overpower Gary and wrestle the knife from Gary. Then he called for help. Gary struggled desperately.

"What happened?" Ghost asked.

Soap held Gary down against the floor. Gary was thrashing, trying to free himself from the other's grip. The knife had been knock several feet away, and when Ghost opened the door the knife stopped and held it open. It didn't take long for any of them to realize what had occurred and there was a flurry of motion. And Gary was being held by several of them. Soap was stunned, he had trusted the young man.

He turned sharply and left the room, Price followed him out.

"Where are you going mate?" Price asked. Soap was heading upstairs.

"Where I won't be able to interfere with the interrogation that Ghost is about to perform. I don't believe it. I was foolish to think that my son could have survived."

"I'm sorry mate."

"Not as sorry as I am. My god he looks just like him."

Price shook his head.

"Life has a way of throwing us for a loop."

"Tell Ghost not to hold back, just because he's young."

Price turned pale. Soap had gone strangely cold. And Price began to suspect that there was more to this story than he knew. He headed back for the room and saw that Ghost was circling the young man. Gary was shaking and his eyes were wide with terror.

"Please just kill me quickly."

"Why should we would we? Would you have killed him quickly?"

"Yes. I would have made it quick. He was kind to me, I didn't want him to suffer."

Ghost grabbed the knife from under the door. And stalked towards Gary, whose blue eyes widened even further. "No!"

"Who sent you?"

"Makarov. He told me I had to prove myself."

"Prove yourself?" Price echoed.

"I was sent to kill those who killed his mentor."

Ghost cursed violently. Then he turned away. Price wasn't as surprised at the underhanded tactic. He walked towards Gary and pulled out a few hair strands.

"What are you doing?" Toad asked. Price didn't answer, he had a sinking suspicion that this really was Soap's son but the young man had been so twisted that he didn't understand what he was doing. It was underhanded enough to fit in with the things Makarov had done. Send a man's own son to assassinate him.

He put the hair in an envelope and then collected a DNA sample from Soap. He sent it to a person he knew he could trust and left the order for no one to lay a hand on Gary until they got the results. It took two days for his friend to send the results. Price read them first. He was right.

"Soap, the lad is your son."

"He tried to kill me!" Soap snapped.

Price put a hand on Soap's arm.

"Mate, he's been lost and brainwashed by Makarov. He didn't know any better."

"I don't care!"

"Yes, you do. If you didn't, you wouldn't be as upset about the entire ordeal. Talk to him, show him the results, see if you can help him."

**AN: Hey everyone, sorry I haven't updated in a while. I decided for this chapter to add a few extra twists. ::Evil laughter:: **


	6. Chapter 6

Doghouse

**AN: Hey guys, putting this in the beginning to give you fair warning, this chapter is pure silliness. Please remember to review to feed my muse.**

Gary didn't realize that when he consented to be given another chance by the man in black that he would be given these results. Hell, he wasn't even human anymore. He knew that right away. He was so much smaller than he remembered being before. He let out a high pitched cry, he was cold.

"What the hell is that?" Soap asked. He rounded the corner. When Gary saw his friend and commanding officer he ran towards him. Soap watched a small brown, dark brown, and black fur ball bound towards him. He knew it was a dog and his first instinct was to pull out his knife. The small animal seemed to realize this and cowered at his legs. With a sigh, Soap sheathed the knife and bent down. It was a puppy, some sort of mix.

Gary was very glad that Soap didn't slice him and thanked the man by licking his hand. He'd always know the big scot was a softie. He could remember that he was once human and he knew who they were.

"I've got no food to give you little guy."

"Find something?" Price asked. The puppy at Soap's feet growled. "Cheeky little bastard. Get rid of it." Soap picked up Gary and Gary let out a happy bark and licked Soap's face.

'Damn, I don't know why I had the urge to do that.' Gary thought. His tail was wagging as if it had a mind of its own. Toad came around the corner to investigate the sound.

"Oh, it's a puppy. Is it lost? Hey there cutie."

'Now I know how my dog felt. I'm not stupid Toad!' He made a sound that was a cross between a growl and a bark. "Okay I'm sorry! I swear this puppy understands us."

"What the bloody hell was that sound?" Ghost's voice called. Gary barked happily and his tail wagged furiously. Soap carried Gary and came closer to the house. "All this trouble over a stray puppy," Ghost said. Gary's high pitched cries had woken up everyone in the safehouse.

"The poor little thing is lost!" Toad protested.

Archer appeared in the doorway behind Ghost, he was still in his pajamas and looked still half asleep. He blinked and stared at the small ball of fur in the Captain's arms.

"What the hell kind of dog is that?"

"Some sort of mix. Sheltie, I think." Soap said, absentmindedly petting him.

"Great, he's already besotted with the flea bitten mongrel." Price mumbled. Gary growled at Price again.

'Just wait till the captain puts me down. I'll bite your ankles! Wait, where did that come from?'

Ghost snickered.

"Seems like your new pet doesn't like Price."

"I'm not keeping it." Soap said. Gary whined in protest. He didn't remember much of his dog life but he did remember that the woman had left him all alone by the side of the road. Toad scooped him up out of Soap's arms, and held him close, almost protectively.

"No! It's just a baby! It won't survive on its own."

"Toad, we can't keep it. It belongs to someone."

"It doesn't have a collar."

"It's probably got fleas."

"I'll give it a bath!"

"He." Ghost corrected.

"What?" Both Price and Toad asked.

"The puppy, it's a he."

"How can you tell?"

"I had dogs growing up. And that's a German Shepard-Sheltie mix. I had this breed. It's called Sheltie Shepherd. Very smart breed."

'Thanks Ghost. I knew you'd be able to tell everyone that I'm a… aw man, I'm a dog! Literally.'

Gary decided it couldn't hurt to charm his way into the house. He put his head onto Toad's shoulder. Toad laughed and hugged him closer. Gary's tail wagged and he licked Toad's cheek. Ghost chuckled and walked closer.

"He is awful cute. And it's freezing out here. You know you want to keep the little guy Captain." Ghost said, he was calling Soap on his bluff of feigned indifference. Soap's shoulders sagged and he looked tired.

"Roach would have loved the little furball." He said. He examined the puppy. "My god. It's got the same color eyes as Roach did."

"Really?" Toad said. He peered down at Gary. "He does! Okay, I'm gonna name you Gary." Gary responded with another lick. "Hey! I'm not a snack!" They were walking towards the house when Archer began to sneeze.

"He's driving my allergies nuts."

"That's cause he's dirty."

Gary was brought into the house and penned in the kitchen. When everyone went to go back to sleep he began to make sounds of protest, howls. He continued to cry for an hour before Ghost appeared in the entryway.

"Come on now little one. Let's get you to bed." He picked up Gary and put him back in the basket they set up. When he was going up the stairs Gary began to make high pitched cries once more. Shaking his head, Ghost went back down the stairs and picked up Gary, who was bewildered with his actions and carried him up the stairs. "Hush now Gary. I'll take good care of you. But if you think you're sleeping on the bed, you've got another thing coming runt."

The next morning Ghost placed him back into the , Toad picked him up, brought him upstairs and proceded to lock the both of them in the bathroom. Toad was wearing ratty clothing and he picked up Gary again.

"All right little guy. I know this is not gonna be fun fir you but if you behave, I'll let you sleep on the couch."

'What the hell is he talking about?' Gary thought. Then he saw the tub was partly full of water. 'No! Don't bathe me! I'm too little!' He yelped in protest when he was gently placed into the warm water. He let out a startled yelp and Toad rubbed a soothing circle in his head.

"Ease now little one, it's okay." He had a large plastic cup in the tub and a bottle of oatmeal puppy shampoo sitting close at hand. Gary could feel a rubber mat underneath his paws and he relaxed. Until Toad stuffed two cotton balls into his ears. And then began to pour water on him. He yelped and Toad hushed him in soothing tones.

It took fifteen minutes for Toad to clean the filthy puppy and get him partly dried. Luckily, the pup didn't have fleas and was well behaved during the day. It stayed close to Ghost and Soap, as it seemed to have bonded with them, the puppy growled at Price every time he got too close to him and kept away from Archer. He tolerated Toad.

"If that thing bites me, I'm kicking him."


	7. Chapter 7

Recovery

Three days after his confession, before he was able to move his leg without agony nearly paralyzing him. Another week before he was able to stand, even if only for a few short moments. Almost a month before he was able to walk on his own. Today, he promised himself, he'd learn the layout of the safe house. It was six steps from the bed to the door. The door didn't open when he pushed it away from himself. But rather it swung towards him when Archer opened the door to let him know that breakfast was almost ready. This really was his first venture out of the room since he'd been injured alone.

He had his arms extended, one in front of him and the other to the side, he took a step, the hand to the side still touching the door frame then he took another step and his fingertips brushed against the wall opposite his door. The wall was rough and he could faintly make out the smell of old paint. He turned to his left and walked carefully forward, there were parts of the wall that were smooth which gave him the impression that the house at one point had been remodeled, and it wasn't done properly. Like the people respondible didn't remove all of the wall paper and glue that had been there. He hit a dead end, it was a wooden door, and badly in need of repairs. Keeping one hand on the door, he turned again, and his hand only met the air.

"Easy there mate." Soap's Scottish brogue said from in front of him. "Don't want you falling down the stairs. "There's railing to your right, lower your hand a bit."

Roach followed the direction and his hand landed on the railing, it was flat on the top, and grooved on the bottom. 'Who designed this place?' He wondered. It seemed that the safe house's layout was all sorts of odd. It took a moment but Roach's hand connected with the railing and he slowly walked down the stairs. There were fourteen of them. "Are you counting every single step Roach?" Soap questioned.

"I can't keep on relying on others to do things for me." Roach said.

He was barefoot and while the wooden floor of the hall and stairs had been cool, the floor of the landing was almost icy in comparison. The surface is smooth but with a subtly rough texture to it. He guesses that this must be genuine tile that he's standing on and not the smooth and glossy tile that is sold in mass quantities at home improvement stores. He could almost imagine what the surface looks like, semi-glossy and in more natural colors. He smells mold and could feel the moisture that the landing holds. He hadn't realized that his other senses were so hyper sensitive to the slightest stimulus. He started when a large, warm hand settled on his shoulder.

"Jumpy?" Soap asked. "Don't want you slamming into a door."

"Oh."

He realized how young he sounded and knew that his Captain was grinning, the bastard.

"The landing of the stairs is about four feet in width and three in length and I'm measuring from the door which is three steps to your left."

"Thanks. Oh god, what is that smell?"

"That's Archer's cooking."

"It's burning."

He heard Soap swear and then open the door to yell at someone to take the food off of the stove. A moment later he heard Archer yelling at someone.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you? Are you trying to burn down the house?" Archer was demanding.

"Me? You left the food cooking unattended!" Toad shot back. "Bad enough Roach can't see anymore but now we're subjecting him to your lousy cooking."

"Watch what you call lousy you damned freeloader."

"At least I can cook!"

Archer sputtered at a loss for a good come back. Roach worked hard not to laugh.

"Aw Archer, not again!" Price broke in. "I hope you're not planning on feeding that to anyone."

"This is for Roach."

"The lad's suffered enough. We don't need to go on feeding him this, what the bloody hell is that?" Price seemed to be at a loss as to how to describe what Archer had made. "I'm sure the lad will appreciate the gesture Archer, but his taste buds might not like you. Besides, he needs to eat healthy food. And don't you dare dump that crap outside again. The last time you did, I could hear the strays dying three streets down because of you. We don't want to abuse the wildlife."

Having heard enough, Roach ventured past the door and into another area of the house.

"Guys?"

"Roach!"

"Hey Toad. What's all the fuss about?"

"Archer cooked."

"Ah. It's still burning."

"Bloody hell!" Archer complained. There was the sound of a single pair of feet running and a yelp, then cursing.

"God damn it Archer, you almost ran me over!"

"The bread's burning!"

There was the sound of the oven door opening and then the smell of something on was followed by shouts, curses and the sound of a fire extinguisher. The air smelled of burned bread and something foul that he couldn't put a name to.

"Maybe cereal would be safer for me." Roach hedged. Someone laughed but he couldn't place the scandalous giggle that should not have come from a grown man, never-the-less a soldier.

After breakfast, he spent most of the day learning the house, the living room, which he had crossed through to get to the dining room and kitchen was roughly twenty steps by twenty steps. He was learning that even though his sight was gone, his other senses were now hypersensitive. He could smell the gunpowder smell and smoke that lingered on Soap's body, the smell of grass that was distinctly Archer, the smell of grime and filth that was all Price, the smell of coca cola that was Toad, and even the faint smell of cologne and gin that was Ghost.

He was able to hear the slightest noise, even the sound of someone messing with their car. His sense of touch was much more sensitive too, and that's what had made the learning of the house so much easier. It was extraordinary to think that, given the right circumstances, he was able to tell when trouble was coming, and he did.

"Good thing we decided to listen to Roach, he's like a really big alarm."

"I resent that remark."

**AN: Hey, sorry it took so long to update, I had such an extreme case of writer's block that I was about to swear that my muse died on me. Hahaha…. Anyway this was kinda short cause I didn't want to force it. Review if you please. Muchas gracias.**


	8. Chapter 8

Alternate Realities Suck

"In life each person brings out a different part of our personality. When we bereft of them we lose that part of ourselves." –unknown

Toad laid his head on the table and moaned. He was using his forearm as a pillow. The night before had not been easy on any of the men of the 141. Especially considering that their prisoner woke frequently, screaming. Several time during the night, Archer's fatherly instincts kicked in and he soothed the younger man the way he would his daughter.

"Oh man…" Toad whined. "I'm so tired. What the hell did Ghost do to him?"

"Shut it Toad." Archer snapped. He looked worse than Toad did. His eyes were blood shot and he looked like he was ready to keel over from exhaustion. He was irritable and drained. The father part of him wanted to keep Gary safe, after all, the young man was still young enough to be considered a child. The battle-hardened soldier side felt no such pity for the other man. In fact, his sharp mind was telling him that Gary could very well be lying. It was such a farfetched idea that Gary was from an alternate reality that he couldn't believe it. Putting aside that they'd tortured him, there was no way it could be true. He was worried that Gary knew so much about their lives.

Ghost walked into the room. He looked tired himself.

"Has anyone fed him today?"

"Not yet. Archer and I are a little leery of him. He keeps insisting that he knows us and it's just creepy. Maybe he's crazy or something."

"When you're done make sure he eats something. We need to ask him a few more questions."

"Yes sir."

"And one more thing Toad, don't let him fool you."

Toad brought food to Gary twenty minutes later. For the most part, Gary was still asleep. Finally getting the rest his bruised and battered body needed. Toad nudged him with the tip of his boot. Gary's eyes snapped open and for a moment, he regarded Toad with terror. Toad could feel his guilt rising. Gary looked like he wanted to run but knew it would be unwise.

"I've brought you some food. You need to eat and drink some water."

"Toad, why are you helping them? We were friends. I know you."

"Stop it!" Toad snapped. He was annoyed now. "You don't know me and I don't know you. You work for the bastards that are trying to find us and kill us."

"No, I want to help!" Gary said. "Shepherd hurt so many people when he did what he did. I want to help prove that you're all innocent."

"And why should we believe you?" It was Toad who spoke but Soap. Gary looked stunned that the large man had managed to sneak up on them without them noticing. He bit his lip. "Are you still trying to sell that alternate reality nonsense?"

"It isn't nonsense if it's the truth. Shepherd almost killed you when you went after him, right? He caught you off guard by slamming your head into a rusted heap of a car and used the fact that you were stunned to stab you with your own knife. You would have died if not for Price who knocked into Shepherd just as he pulled the trigger to kill you with the same magnum he shot me and Ghost with. Even then, you were pretty badly hurt. You flat lined when you got to the safe house, Price was beside himself with panic."

"All common knowledge."

"Okay, I'll give you that one. But what about what happened in the Gulag? Price called you Soap. You can't deny that when you first saw him alive, after assuming he was dead for five years, you were stunned. He held onto that sidearm all that time and then returned it to him with a 'This belongs to you sir.' Even after the bastard molly whopped me with the butt of my own rifle."

"How do you know that?"

"You told Ghost and me once that you would never forget what happened the day you killed Zachav. How he gutlessly killed everyone on the team and how Price saved your life. That was never included in the official reports and you know it."

"So you've been spying on us. It doesn't matter. You aren't leaving hear unless it's in a bag."

"…"

Gary fell silent. He didn't want to chance that Soap would follow through with his threat. Soap gave a wicked smile.

"What's the matter? No response? What happened to the bravery you were pretending to have a moment ago?"

"You've lost your damn mind." Gary said, his eyes almost comically wide. But there was nothing at all comical about the situation that he found himself in. There was a mad glint in the eyes of the man he'd admired so much. He was beginning to think that MacTavish was a little more cruel in this life. He remembered that Soap had once told him that he brought out the gentler sides of people, and used Ghost as an example, teasing that Ghost treated him like a beloved little brother. But if they'd never met then…

"You'd better watch your tongue."

"Are you done terrorizing the lad?" Ghost asked from the door. "Are you done messing with his head? I gave orders to feed him, not harass him."

"Ghost, a word."

Toad left the food near Gary and then left quickly, still weirded out by the whole situation before them.

"What are you playing at Ghost?" Soap demanded in the hallway.

"He's a prisoner, not an outlet for your frustrations. We needn't be unnecessarily cruel. What happened to you, John? You were never so heartless, so what's wrong?"

"That's the pot calling the kettle black!"

Ghost took a calming breath, trying to avoid decking his superior.

"Yes, I tortured the lad. My goal was never to break him. You know I backed off when I realized it was too much for him." Soap winced, Ghost always knew when to call him out when he erred and what was more, the balaclava clad man wasn't afraid to do so either. Soap sighed.

"I don't know what's wrong with me Simon. I just don't like this. Price is looking into his records to see if he's telling the truth. It's mad I tell you."

"How's Price doing that?"

"He's got some friends in records departments around the world."

The next morning brought about some shocking discoveries.

"What do you mean he doesn't exist?" Ghost asked.

"All the records for a Gary Sanderson are very short. Apparently, his mother Andrea Sanderson went into a difficult labor full of complications. Her son, who she named Gary was still born."

"What about DNA?"

"That will take several days to get back the results. Now we know that he's lying."

"Or delusional."

"Let's inform him then?"

Gary stared at them, completely stunned.

"Stillborn? Then how do you explain my being here?"

"You used his identity to cover your own."

"No," Gary said. "I remember growing up in Aurora. That's a city 128 miles out of Salt Lake City. I remember the tiny schools I went to and how my mother always smelled like the Dove Pink soap."

"Who are you?"

"I've told you a hundred times!" Gary snapped at Price. He was becoming more bewildered by the moment. Price dropped in front of him in a crouch and regarded him as if he were a small child, or completely crazy.

"It's all right." He said, he was using a tone Gary hadn't heard him use, ever. It was calm, even and gentle.

"I'm not crazy."

Price smiled at him, and Gary found it just plain creepy.

"I wasn't saying you were, lad. Perhaps you're a might confused." Gary bit his lip, and shook his head. He didn't like what was happening one bit.

"You don't believe me." He said, he sounded hurt. Soap shook his head. "I'm not lying to you! And I'm not crazy!" His voice raised a few octaves from emotional stress. It always seemed to him that his voice tended to sound high and girly whenever he was completely stressed out. Bullets flying at him, he could handle, given he wasn't actually hit at least at this point with the one-four-one. The first time he'd been fired at, not simulated fired at, he did actually panic until Ghost batted him at the back of the head and told him to return fire. He wasn't a coward but for a month after that, he jumped at the slightest sound.

He had so many memories with these men and they didn't remember him. When he first met Archer, he'd actually disliked the sniper. In fact, the two bickered enough that it was grating to Soap's nerves and he grabbed the two by the ear and told them that if they were going to behave like children, he'd treat them like children. He looked around at the faces of the men he knew so well and counted as family. He fell quiet, only a few days until he could prove to them that he really was who he said he was.

Several days later, Soap looked at the results and blinked. Gary wasn't lying. His DNA and the DNA of the still born Gary Sanderson was an exact match. And he was roughly the age the child would have been if he had lived.

"Well I'll be damned." Ghost breathed. They were all staring at the results of the DNA test in disbelief.

"He wasn't lying after all. So does this mean that the world is ending?"

"You and your bloody doomsday shite Toad. Were you one of those ridiculous people that believed the world was ending in 2012?"

"I got laughed at for a month by my girlfriend when the world didn't end."

Soap went to see Gary.

"What did we call you?"

"Don't you dare laugh. You called me 'Roach'."

"As in cockaroach? That's bloody disgusting! What numpty came up with that?" Soap asked. Gary chuckled.

"You did."

Soap stared at Gary, stunned that the younger man had the gall to laugh at him. "You said because I'm a pain in the ass to kill. Of course, you said 'arse' and I had to have Toad translate for me. He said it took him two years of working as Archer's spotter to understand UK slang and terminology. I still had trouble from time to time. You'd call me numpty occasionally whenever you managed to confuse me and the occasional time I fired at you when you startled me."

"When was this?" Ghost asked from the door.

Gary told them the story about the downed ACS module and how they'd climbed way up the side of an ice wall, a million miles high, to get to a Russian base, in the middle of a fucking Tundra. And how it was snowing so hard, he could barely see three feet in front of him. And Soap, scaring the wits out of him, by going ahead and then not telling him he was returning and how he shot at the large man.

"Was that an oops moment?" Toad asked.

"Yup. On both our ends."

Price actually laughed, something Gary had never heard him do.

"That was one tall wall of ice."

"Worst part is, I almost fell." Gary complained, crossing his arms and frowning. "The ice was soft when we jumped the gap. Never doing that again, ever. I hate heights."

He was pouting and he knew it. As childish as it was, he didn't stop. Ghost laughed and he smiled inwardly.

"Aw, poor little princess." Ghost said with mock sympathy. Gary gave him a venomous glare, which only made Ghost laugh harder not at all threatened by the fierce look he was receiving. It was almost like old times, before Shepherd's betrayal had ripped the tight knit unit apart.

**AN: Sorry I haven't updated in like forever. But I went through a moping stage cause of the move. I really miss the snow. I'm sick of palm trees. Please review.**


	9. Chapter 9

Trust Issues

When Gary woke up, he was in such pain. There wasn't a part of him that didn't hurt. He whined, high pitched and weak. It sounded pitiful even to his own ears. An unfamiliar face loomed over him, it was a pleasant face, brown hair, caramel colored eyes and a pale but healthy complextion.

"Don't try to move lad. You're in no condition for foolishness. I'm Ghost. I'll get the doctor. Lie still." The voice was accented, he was British, like the old man named Price. Gary couldn't believe he was still alive. The man left his side and called out for the doctor, saying that he was awake. Gary nearly drifted back to sleep, but the pain keep in a hazy twilight like state. The doctor came into the tent and examined Gary.

"Can you tell me your name?"

"Gary Elijah Sanderson, Sergeant. Intelligence unit's decoder."

Gary's words were soft but he could not speak any higher. It was difficult to breathe and the pain was becoming crippling.

"Nice to meet you Gary." The doctor said. "My name is doctor Valdimir Brobov. You are a very lucky young man."

"I thought you were Russian. Your accent is faint…" Gary said quietly.

"Da, went to school in America since I was a boy. Good schools there."

Gary smiled.

"Where's the DSM?" Ghost asked.

"Not now Lieutenant." The doctor said. "Let him rest."

"But-"

The doctor disappeared from his line of sight. There was some swearing in Russian and some words in English as Doctor Brobov kicked Ghost out of the tent. Then it was quiet in the tent. The doctor appeared in his line of sight.

"I'm going to give you something for the pain you are in. It will put you to sleep."

The pinch of the needle was nothing compared to the pain he was already in. A few moments later, he was out. He dreamed that night of the love of his life, his daughter.

"_I'm pregnant Gary." His long time girlfriend Paige told him._

"_What?" Gary asked. He was eighteen and certainly not ready for parenthood._

"_Pregnant, knocked up, expecting." She said sarcastically. It was the whole reason Gary had fallen in love with Paige in the first place. Paige when he meet her in English class back in sophomore year was sarcastic and bold. They began dating in Junior year, they had already been friends. By senior year, he was head-over-heels in love with her._

"_How many months?"_

"_Two."_

_They were at Gary's house on the swing set up in the backyard._

"_Oh my god." Gary moaned. "What do you want to do?"_

"_I'm not going to kill my baby. Don't be selfish Gary."_

"_I didn't even think about that. I don't have a job Paige. I can't even support myself."_

"_So get a job and do something dumbass." She quipped. Gary froze and then realized she was kidding. A day later he was signing the recruitment papers. Paige almost ate his head until he reminded her that they would be receiving benefits._

_Callie Angela Sanderson was born on a cool January day at four o'clock in the morning. Paige had picked the names during Gary's absence. Gary married Paige when he returned from training. They stationed him in California until the baby was born. Gary took one look at his daughter and thought she was absolutely the most beautiful thing he ever laid eyes on._

"_She so beautiful." Gary said. "You should see her Paige. Paige?"_

"_Get him out of here." The doctor barked. Callie was taken from him and he was escorted from the room. Other doctors raced to the room and at one point they wheeled Paige out of the room and to another area of the hospital. He was forced to wait outside in the waiting room for almost four hours. He was getting nervous. What was wrong with Paige? Was the baby okay? Finally after what seemed like an eternity, the doctors came to talk to him._

"_Mr. Sanderson?"_

"_Are my girls all right?"_

"_The birth was both difficult and traumatic. She's in an incubator."_

"_And my wife?"_

"_She suffered a massive hemorrhage in her cerebral cortex. It bled out into the other areas of her brain quickly and for all intents and purposes, she's very brain-dead."_

"_Is there a possibility that she can recover?"_

"_It's difficult to say Mr. Sanderson. Did you ever discuss life support with the misses?"_

"_We never really thought about it." Gary said, his legs felt like they were made of jelly. They gave out on him as the implications of what happened hit his brain. His friend from on base knelt beside him._

"_Gary, I know this is tough but you have to make a choice. Do you want to put her on life support until you make up your mind?"_

_Gary nodded._

"_Callie. I need to see Callie."_

"_I know. Can he just look in on his daughter? He needs some sort of peace mind."_

_He was still numb with shock as he was lead from the waiting room to the neonatal unit . "Look, there she is. Oh Gary, she's gorgeous. Callie you said?"_

"_Yeah, Paige was really…oh god…are they both going to die?"_

"_No, they aren't."_

_Callie was taken out of the incubator a week later and Gary was allowed to take her home. Paige was still living on the support of machines, Gary wavering in indescion. His father-in-law called on a daily basis asking Gary what he was going to do. Gary wasn't sure what he should do. So finally he asked his mother. It was the day he went to get Callie from the hospital._

"_Mom, I don't know what to do. Paige's father keeps calling me telling me not to dare leave his daughter on life support but I don't want to leave Callie without her mother."_

"_You have to think about what Paige would want sweetie." His mother's calm voice sounded over the phone. "You know how her family feels about life support. Did she ever mention it to you?"_

"_No but how am I supposed to know what she wanted mom? I'm not ready to let her go yet and I have to pick up Callie from the hospital today."_

"_One thing at time sweetie." His mom reminded him. "How'd you get the nursery done so fast?"_

"_A couple of my friends did it for me. And they went shopping while I was at the hospital. I opened the fridge today to realize I have everything I need for Callie."_

"_That was awful nice of them baby. You give my beautiful granddaughter a kiss from me, okay?"_

_It took nearly a month for Gary to come to a decision. He brought Callie to see her mother. And realized it wasn't fair to either of them. An hour later, he was calling her father for help with the funeral arrangements. Both his mother and her father flew out immediately. Gary couldn't pick them up, still a little wary of taking his daughter anywhere around a lot of people and his mother didn't mind._

"_Gary, you're a good kid, but you are a lousy son-in-law. I'm lucky your mother was on the same flight!"_

_Callie didn't like the loud noise and she began to wail. Gary rocked her for ten minutes and she still wouldn't stop. His mother rescued him and soon enough she calmed down._

"_Sneaky mom, what did you do?" He asked as he took Callie back from his mother. His mom demonstrated what she had done to calm Callie._

"_Do you ever put her down son?" She asked._

"_Hardly ever," Gary confessed. "It's so hard to, especially now. I don't want to leave her side for a second. I'm afraid to. She's so tiny and she's so fragile."_

_Paige's parents visited as often as often as possible. Then when she was three, they filed for custody, much to Gary's horror. He's raised Callie single handedly and worked for the government. He refused to give them custody, even partial. The judge areed, and they weren't given custody of her. Gary was forced to hire a caregiver when his responsiblilies increased. She was moved with him when he was assigned to a base in Japan._

When he woke again, Ghost was snacking on a few pretzels.

"Who's Callie?"

"My daughter, she's six now."

"Had her young?"

"Yeah. She's stateside with my mother."

"We should get you back to her."

**AN: Sorry I haven't updated in forever. I live out in the boonies of Puerto Rico and they don't have internet there. It's like living in the 1950s, haha… Anyway, I thought it would be interesting to give Gary a history. I'm stateside right now, going to see doctors. (Doctors there are all quacks).**


	10. Chapter 10

The Realities of Stockholm syndrome

Soap was angry about the attempted murder. He left Gary strung up. Price was worried.

"Soap, you can't ignore the facts. He's your son." Price said. "You've been looking for the boy for eleven years."

"He's not my son."

"DNA doesn't lie, Soap. He's your son. Why don't you see why he's done what he's done? You need to talk to him and then figure out what we're going to do with him."

Gary was unharmed still; Ghost was leaning against the wall.

"Good, I'm going to grab some chow, a shower and then sleep. He's been good all this time. He hasn't made a sound."

"I need to talk to the boy."

"He's deceptive for someone so young."

"I know but I need some information."

Price approached Gary.

"I'm not going to hurt you lad." He said. He unlocked the cuffs keeping Gary hanging from the ceiling. When Gary's legs refused to hold him, he eased the teen to the floor. "Gary, I know that you don't believe me. But whatever Makarov told you is a lie."

"He's my father."

"No Gary, he isn't. The man you tried to kill is your father."

Gary paled.

"No… that's not true…" Gary whispered. "He said he loved me that I was his son even if I wasn't tied to him by blood,"

"Gary, he used you. I looked into what happened the day you were snatched."

Gary turned as white as a sheet. "The man who took you Gary, what did he look like?"

"Don't." Gary whispered. It was such a shocking contrast to the strong sixteen-year-old that had tried to kill his own father. He was sitting on the floor, his knees pulled up to his chest, as if he was trying to make himself into a smaller target. To an experience soldier and a former POW like Price, this told him that Gary had been badly abused throughout the years.

It made him angry but the anger was directed at Makarov, who took an already wounded child and stole what was left of his innocence, making the boy train to be an assassin. He was angry with the man who'd stolen Gary from his friend who'd loved the boy. He was angry at the authorities for not doing more to find Gary before it was too late to help him. He was angry at Soap, for turning his back on his son when he needed him the most. But he wasn't angry at Gary. Gary's actions were appalling, it was true.

He knew what he needed to do and it wouldn't be pleasant for either of them.

"Gary, he didn't love you. If he loved you, why would you have to prove yourself to him? Why would you be so afraid of people? What did he do to you? If he made you hurt, then it wasn't love Gary. A parent who loves you wants to protect you for as long as they can. How old were you when the training began?"

Gary's eyes flooded with tears. Price felt like an ass but he continued.

"How old were you when the beatings started under the guise to make you stronger?" He asked gently. It seemed to be the final push Gary needed. He broke down and began sobbing.

"Eight. I was eight when he let them start hitting me." Gary said hollowly. Price sat on the floor before Gary, and reached for his hand. "But I needed it, I needed to be strong."

Price knew that it would take a long time for Gary to recover, and the most important factor in his recovery would be Soap. Gary was suffering.

"No, Gary you were a child! You didn't need to be beaten, or be forced to give up your childhood."

"Stop it! He was trying to make me strong, make me better!"

"Gary, it's not your fault. He hurt you. If really loved you, he'd keep you safe."

It took three days to convince Soap to talk to Gary. By then Gary hadn't said a word to anyone since his conversation with Price. He refused to look at anyone.

"Gary?" Price asked. Gary only moved when he needed to. "I've brought your father to see you." Gary looked up quickly, expecting to see Makarov. But upon seeing Soap, he looked at his feet. Soap knelt beside Gary.

"Gary, I wanted to talk to you." Soap said. "I remember the day you were born. My god, you were tiny. You have my eyes, Gary. Will you look at me?"

Gary looked up at Soap. His face showed just how confused he was. Gary shook his head. He was in denial. "You were 45.72 centimeters long and weighed a little over 3 kilograms. I loved you from the moment I held you. You were five months old when you began crawling; I knew you'd be doing things sooner than most children then. Once you learned to walk, we couldn't keep you in your highchair, you'd find ways to escape it and your playpen. You were just under a year old when you said your first word. When you were three, you got hurt. It's the injury that gave you that scar just here." Soap traced the scar with his fingertip. "Your mum made me sleep on the couch for not keeping a better eye on you."

Gary looked more confused.

"I don't believe you."

"I thought you might not." Price said. He handed Gary the DNA results. Gary's eyes widened.

"You really are my father." He said. "I don't understand. Why would he… he couldn't have…"

"I'm so sorry Gary. We'll do everything we can to help you."

"Can I go back?"

Soap shook his head.

"No son, you can't. He's hurt you."

"I don't know what to do."

"First thing you need to do is eat, then get to sleep."

**AN: Gary was eighteen inches long and five pounds six ounces. Since Soap is from Scotland, he uses the metric system for weight and length, the beauties of online conversions. Though I couldn't figure out what ounces translate to. Stockholm Syndrome is the irrational attachment of a person who was held captive to their captor, it may take years to recover from, but some people never recover from it. It's most often seen in children who were kidnapped and prisoners of war. Most of the time, the victims try to return to the person who abused them and don't view what they did as abuse, rather they view it as acts of kindness. So Gary is going to need some intense therapy before he starts to get better.**


	11. Chapter 11

The Man in Black

Most people think that they understand the way the game is played, they don't. There were no rules, no end to the possibilities, but still, he wasn't heartless. He wasn't exactly living, his heart beat too slow. Gary and the others were interesting test subjects to say the least. Humans proved one thing, the only theory that mattered really, some bonds couldn't be broken, not fully.

"So, the primary subject does he exist?"

"He's in a drug induced coma as are the others."

"It wouldn't do if he wakes again."

"That incident was not my doing. Blame that technician of yours. She forgot one of his doses."

"How much longer will this run, humans are actually rather gross."

"I tolerate you, I prefer the primitive inhabitants of the planet to whining fools."

"Apologies."

The second left the room, muttering. Gary Sanderson was a courageous man, his initial capture had been all too easy. But that wasn't important. The experiment was. When it was over, he would have them returned to their original state and reality, humans were easily tampered with. It wouldn't be long now. Two of the realities already resolved themselves. One was close, the other two, needed several more days. If asked which reality was best for them, he wouldn't be able to say. Perhaps he needed a more tragic reality to redress the balance, or perhaps two or several. Yes, and he had the most perfect ideas. Now, all that was left was to introduce them, the others thought he was soft, but the next round of tests would be nothing short of brutal The subjects were ready.

**AN: Apologies for taking so long to update. I know it's short... Please review. Constructive criticism is always appreciated.**


End file.
